CHAPTER 60: TENSE FRIENDSHIP

  When Elias and Bertrand returned to the Trader’s Hall six months after first venturing into the complex together, they did so with considerably more money in their bank account and purpose in their presence. If they were to buy a booth, it had to be a good one, Bertrand had concluded when Elias last floated the idea. And so, after a very busy summer for The Two Worlds Trading Company, they bought a good booth on the eve of autumn.

  In addition to their usual clients in Sailor’s Rise, Azir, and the United North, business with Victoria Bane was booming. Whereas their relationship with Sultan Atakan was predicated on predictability, their dealings with Victoria were as sporadic as they were increasingly frequent. When she liked a thing, she chased after it, she explained to them, and The Two Worlds Trading Company had proven itself fast and dependable. The timing was also serendipitous. Victoria was still aggressively expanding and buying more mills, stringing together her business empire with one acquisition after another. Perhaps they could grow together, she mused. Perhaps they would need that second airship.

  But first, they decided to make a name for themselves at the Fall Exhibition. Victoria was just one client, however lucrative, and Elias was forcing himself to learn the subtle art of reasonable risk aversion. Expansion was a tricky business, and they would have to make the right jump at the right time.

  A bit of exposure seemed like a small, appropriately sized step.

  In the main room of the Trader’s Hall, beneath its soaring rib-vaulted ceiling and myriad arches, passersby recognized them first and foremost from The Emerald Cup. While these interruptions initially seemed a distraction from their more serious purpose there, a few conversations turned to business and, in a couple of cases, the exchange of cards. As the afternoon progressed, they leaned into the story others projected onto them: if it was speed you were after, whether for an urgent delivery or a timely opportunity, you would not find a faster trader on the continent.

  No one signed paperwork on the exhibition floor, but seeds had been planted. They had gotten their money’s worth, after all. Yes, Elias was feeling rather pleased with himself and the constructive day that had ultimately transpired.

  And then he saw her. Abigail Graystone walking arm in arm with her betrothed, Levi Quinn of the all-important Quinn family.

  Elias had not known of the young Mr. Quinn’s existence until Bertrand mentioned their exchange at the race reception—a few weeks after the fact and with no small amount of flinching on Bertrand’s part—but now the name was poison in his veins. Levi, on the other hand, probably did not even register the existence of his envious onlooker. Nor was he apparently awful like Edric, however badly Elias wished it so, however desperately he dug for some story to cling to. False hope was another demon he was battling, albeit less successfully.

  Standing next to him behind their modest black booth, Bertrand trailed his gaze and said, “Some things you just need to let go.”

  “We were only friends,” Elias replied.

  “Then why say it in the past tense?” Bertrand asked. “Can you not still be friends?”

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  “I’m busy, Bertrand. Besides, my business partners are my friends.” Elias turned to him, smirking. “It’s more convenient this way.”

  Bertrand smirked back. Their friendship was indeed many things, including convenient, though its resilience had been tested a few months earlier when Elias finally unveiled the truth about himself to Bertrand and then, to make matters worse, how he intended to integrate his “gift” into their business plan. The news had been met with humor, incredulity, confusion, and eventually anger. Bertrand briefly believed that Briley, Iric, and Gabby were also in on the jest, though he did not understand the punchline. In the end, Elias realized he would simply need to show him the truth. It was the second time the pair entered a sky rift together.

  There was one secret he still kept from Bertrand, however, along with everyone else in his life, and that was the source of the scar across his cheek. Though it had flattened and faded over two seasons, it had left a lasting mark. Elias recalled slipping on a slick stone back on that pebble beach, and his lie branched out from there. Rather than nearly falling onto Orin’s blade, he had fallen onto his elbows and scraped his cheek on some barnacle.

  “Speaking of friends who aren’t really friends, Briley told me you were out with Amara again last night,” Elias said, his eyes flicking back to Abigail as she disappeared down a hallway.

  “I see what you did there. Very nice transition.” Bertrand was arranging their freshly printed flyers back into an arching rainbow across the table. They had designed a new one over the summer advertising championship service from this year’s Emerald Cup champions, but Bertrand said he still preferred their original, which Elias had drawn and he had penned, showing an airship bursting through the clouds like a drover through cattle. Fast, reliable, and affordable, The Two Worlds Trading Company brings the continent to your doorstep, it still read (they had not included Briley’s less metaphorical version).

  “Very nice deflection,” Elias retorted.

  “We get along splendidly,” Bertrand admitted. “She is as clever as I am and certainly more stunning in a dress. But I haven’t forgotten that Amara is very much out of my class. I shall enjoy the dream while it lasts. Reality will take its bite eventually.” He had not meant to make this about Elias again. “Sorry.”

  “Maybe you and I will take a few bites out of reality,” Elias said.

  “We do have a knack for it,” Bertrand added.

  Their conversation was put on pause as a woman they both recognized from the Spring Exhibition approached their booth, bespectacled and wearing the same coffee-colored suit she had worn last time.

  “How are sales of your bicycle?” Elias inquired as she picked up their favorite flyer.

  “You’ve seen our presentation?” She looked up over the paper’s edge, sounding a little impressed.

  “You put on quite the show.”

  She chuckled inwardly. “Perhaps a busy indoor room wasn’t the best venue for showing off the vehicle. The bicycle has been more of an export than we expected. It turns out the transportation device is better suited to flatter cities than Sailor’s Rise.”

  “Well, if you ever need an exporter.” Bertrand winked.

  “May I keep this?” She waved the flyer.

  “Have a card too.” Elias handed her one. It was a simple card with the name of their company, the members of its executive team, and their new address in Hightown printed in a stately serif font on thick, high-quality paper—a favor from Victoria. When it came to printing, the devil was in the smallest details, she had said.

  The bespectacled woman thanked them and continued on her way, flyer and card in hand. Another seed had been successfully planted.

  Bertrand appeared satisfied. “We are good at taking bites out of reality,” he said, picking up the threads of their interrupted conversation. “Which reminds me of something I’ve been meaning to say.”

  He turned to face his friend. “As you know, risk-taking is hardly my bread and butter. I could not have lived up to my potential alone, but on your own, Elias, you would have run yourself off a cliff, and Briley would still be peddling buttons and yarn at Fairweather Provisions. The Two Worlds Company isn’t mine of yours or hers. It is ours, and it could only have ever been ours. I’ll try to remember that whenever I’m extraordinarily pissed off at you—that maybe the tension is precisely where we succeed.”

  Elias slapped his large friend’s back and peered out at the exhibition floor. “Until the rope snaps,” he joked.

  Bertrand peered out with him. “Hopefully by then, we’ll have sprouted wings.”